


Wings

by lusium



Category: Persona 4
Genre: I wrote a very self induglent thing, Implied Selfcest, Implied Slash, Just to be safe, Other, Personas as characters, Wingfic, Would this essentially classify as self-cest too?, also a giftfic for a fried, because if so, friend, then I should probably tag it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 16:32:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3817345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lusium/pseuds/lusium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Souji hates his wings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MoonHunter02](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonHunter02/gifts).



They’re fine, he tells himself, ignoring the scratching feeling of his school uniform against the backs of his wings. He can feel the gentle warmth oozing from Yukiko’s wings, made purely of flames, it’s fitting, he thinks. How her persona matches the element, with each moment of the creatures body pulls flames to and fro with its will.

His wings are alright, he decides, and catches the flashes of color, and blinding oranges of Yosuke, and Chie’s wings. How each feather on the magicians wings shift in the sun, creating a dazzling image of color. How the bright orange steadily fades from Chie’s to a black around the edges. They’re both fitting, he knows. How Jiraiya seems almost as blindingly colorful as Yosuke’s wings, with the red of his scarf, contrasting with the white of his jumpsuit, and the camouflage of his cuffs. The yellow of the stars on his face compared to the black of the mask. They’re amusing, how Tomoe keeps a yellow, and black color scheme, its fitting. 

His wings are okay, he tells himself, quietly believing it. He has to hold his breath as smoke passes by his face, his attention following along to the source. He can see Kanji’s outline, as he tries to control how much smoke was being released from his wings. He can see the mismatched wings of Rise, as she walks beside Kanji and Naoto, the burned sticks and branches weaving together in the image of destruction, as the growing leaves, and stalks of the other wing create another image of growth, and life. 

He isn’t sure what to think of his wings anymore, he can see the rapidly switching colors of Naoto’s wings through the haze of smoke, how it seems as though they’re covered in glitter, the smallest twitch of the wings sending glowing beams onto the ground, the colors mixing rapidly in front of him. He can see Teddie, bouncing alongside them, happy despite his lack of wings. He feels something stir in his chest, he’s not sure what it is.

A breeze passes, and he feels his wings pressing against the restraining fabric of his undershirt, he can see the flurry of colors around him pause, the voices of the others falling silent as the breeze blows. He ignores the longing in his bones to release his wings from their places in his shirt. Simply continues to walk ahead towards the school, his hands shoved in his pockets.

* * *

Nanako is off at a friends house for the night, and Dojima is staying late at work, leaving Souji home alone with his thoughts. He stares into the mirror at his reflection, at the small leathery wings twitching just over his shoulders. He runs a hand quietly along the spines fitted against the top of the wings, feeling them strain against his touch. He slowly stretches them open, barely able to see the tips of the wings poking out from behind his arms. 

He runs his fingers quietly over the membranes stretching between the small bones, feeling the leather texture as they tremble at the touch. 

Theres a knock at the door, followed shortly by it opening, and Yosuke’s voice calling up to him, announcing his arrival. Hurriedly, he throws his shirt back on, pressing the leathery wings against his back, to keep them hidden away.

He hates his wings.

* * *

The hilt of his katana trembles in his grasp, he can feel his wings straining against the fabric of his shirt as the blade hits the ground with a quiet clatter. It feels to him, that the world is going in slow motion, He feels the wind pick up around him as Yosuke darts past, trailed by Jiraiya as the red scarf flashes through his vision. 

As painful as the wind was, the longer he stood still, the less it bothered him. His gaze trained on the ground under him as the familiar warmth of his persona crouching next to him, swarmed his senses. There was a tentative weight on his back, the shuffling of fabric bringing his attention to the fact that the persona was no longer wearing his coat, rather had draped it over the teen before darting off to assist the others.

He only pulled the fabric closer, finding a sort of comfort as he sat up, feeling the torn fabric of his shirt peel away to ease his small wings into the swamping jacket.

It wasn’t all that uncommon for his wings to ache enough for his body to be utterly motionless in the middle of battle, it was a reason he regretted ever going into the TV in the first place, hating how the fog only accented the lavishly colored wings on his companions, as though they belonged in the fog. 

He wasn’t aware that the fight had ended, until taloned hands had carefully moved the jacket from his figure, concealing his wings and hoisting him up. He forced himself not to react to the pain that shot through his back as he was moved, only pressing closer to the familiar warmth of his persona as the jacket was once again draped over him. 

His companions were speaking, though he wasn’t sure what they were saying, simply closed his eyes, waiting for the throbbing to diminish enough that he could move without any serious pains.

His wings were disgusting

* * *

The hands grab at him, only phasing through him, and missing their target. His wings strain against his undershirt, and he doesn’t bother hiding them anymore, best to go out with a bang, he supposed. And allowed for the small forms to tear through the restraining fabric, sending the scraps fluttering to the ground.

His back stings, and he isn’t sure what to think, its a pain he wasn’t familiar with. one that resonated throughout his entire being, and a glance to his left, showed he was utterly alone, all his friends had been devoured by the ever hungering darkness under him. Yet, the pain wasn’t that of loneliness, it was a pain he couldn’t truly describe.

He could feel the shadows grab at his wings, phasing through as they had the rest of him. He can’t help but smirk, he can feel the thrumming of an uncertain power in his chest, hear Igor’s words in his mind, even as he removes his glasses, and stares up at the decrepit form glaring down at him, determined to destroy him. He can’t help but laugh.

It’s jarring, just how facing the reality of death, even throughout his time in the TV had been the same, he hadn’t faced the actual reality that his friends were dying-- or, more accurately, had died, and he was alone -- had actually served to make him just that much closer to figuring out the actual truth behind cause of the midnight channel, and the world inside the TV in a whole. How just the experience made his blood sing with a hidden power he hadn’t realized was there before.

He can’t help his actions, even as the shadows attack in more rage than he could have said before, their annoyance as they phase through him is astounding, and he finds it amusing. Even as his wings stretch, and the fog twists around them, he can feel the ache disappearing.

The tarot card floats down in front of his face before he truly knows what he’s doing, simply moving with a familiarity he had grown used to, hearing the shattering of glass, and the blazing heat against his back. It was normal, however… the flash of white in his peripheral vision, was not.

Nor was the gentle touch of feathers against scarred palms, or the flurry of gray-brown feathers shifting as he cranes his neck to see the cause, his pace stumbling to a stop as he feels the wings stretch, and observes how red eyes focus down at him from the white mask, the persona he had been so familiar with, giving off an air of unfamiliarity, and yet, it was a feeling he felt safe with, instinctively backing up just enough to stand beside it.

His wings stretch and flutter in agreement, as a low rumbling reaches his ears. 

He sees the blade swirling around him, as the wind shifts to form a vacuum, and feels the urge to push off from the ground, and the feathers against his back puff up in preparation. He isn’t sure what made him throw himself back, or where the gust of wind had originated, that pushed him further into the air, to balance on steady wings. 

He watches as everything takes place, as the goddess crumbles before them, her words falling mute as he moves to touch the ground, hesitating as the shadows ripple under him, only to peel away as though touched by a light.

And for a moment, he had forgotten about the light that seemed to originate from the pristine white feathers that flourished along his wings.

He thought the gentle warmth was his mind playing tricks on him, even the gusts of wind that brought him closer to the ground, and yet, he couldn’t stop himself from landing, feeling feathers drag through the grass under foot, before the weight of what had happened, dawned on him.

He could hear voices, though he couldn’t understand much of what they were saying, his wings folding around him, as he stared in astonishment at the flickering colors.

It was only the subtle, grazing touch of talons that made him look up, as red eyes focused down at him through a motionless mask. And yet, he felt himself moved carefully from where he was standing, to having his back pressed against the persona’s chest, a welcome warmth against aching wings.

Souji adored his wings, and his friends. But he loved his persona,

And no matter what happened, even after he would leave Inaba, nothing would ever change that fact.

**Author's Note:**

> WELP, i wrote this on no sleep, so congratulations.
> 
> This was a very self indulgent thing that originally wasn't supposed to be but ended up like it anyway.
> 
> But I saw the zodiac wing post thats floating around tumblr right now, and I just thought; "Persona characters with wings"  
> and then this was born.
> 
> Im so sorry.
> 
> I might turn this into another series if I decide to do it, because its a very self indulgent thing, but also made for a friend...


End file.
